Who Knew? We Could Be Cheerful
by ishIheard2day
Summary: Summary: A look I've seen before flashes behind playful blue eyes and I know I'm in for more treats than tricks tonight. Brittana. Halloween. Smut.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N… Set in Who Knew? 'Verse. 2 shot. Rated M for smut. Strap-on sex. Semi-public sex. Roleplay. **

**I don't own any of the characters from Glee. As always, Brittana forever.**

* * *

"San, wake up…" I roll away from the voice, wrapping the comforter closer to my body and burying my head further into the fluffy pillow. I lay still, trying to fall back asleep, but Brittany has other plans.

"I know you're awake. You have to get up or we're both gonna be late for work."

"Britt, I can't be late for work if I'm working from home." I smile cheekily at her.

She just smiles and rolls her eyes back at me, "c'mon, get up. You made me promise to wake you up before I left so you would get a head start on your to-do list."

Oh. Right. I knew I should have packed my bag last night before coming over to Britt's place, but after she sent me a provocatively posed picture, _ahem_, I could barely get out of the apartment quick enough. I finally turn over towards the opposite edge, ready to literally roll out of her comfortable bed, before her hands pin me in place. My eyes roam over her body, taking in her work clothes: there's something immensely sexy about a woman in business attire. She's in a pair of grey dress pants, chevron dress shirt, and _the _red heels. I swallow the arousal-induced lump in my throat as images of her in _only_ those red heels flood my mind.

She releases one of my wrists and trails her hand up my arm before lifting the top of the comforter to expose my breasts to the slightly cool air. My nipples immediately react to the rush of cool air and I feel my whole body heating up at the look she levels in my direction. Her pink tongue peeks between her slightly parted lips, her eyes trailing over my body. I lean forward and crash our lips together, not being able to contain my desire any longer. Her hand quickly goes back to holding my wrist as she leans further into me, opening her mouth and allowing me to slip my tongue in to deepen the kiss.

"San…" She pulls back, chest rising and falling quickly, and I see the wheels turning in her mind before she even voices what she's thinking. "I should leave before we get to a point where we can't stop."

I nod and she leans down to kiss me languidly one more time before throwing her legs over my body and sliding off the bed.

"Will you still be able to pick me up at school?"

"Yeah, Kurt and Adam are riding together so Kurt's letting me drive his car over to Rachel and Quinn's place. What time does the party start?"

Brittany zips her jacket, light enough to accommodate the unseasonably warm October we're having, and runs her fingers through her hair before leaning over to grab a duffel bag and her purse. I watch as she slips her purse inside, catching a glimpse of black and red fabric, before she quickly closes the top of the sport bag and throws a sneaky smile my direction. "We should be there by 7pm if we want to be there to help pass out candy to the trick-or-treaters. But other people won't get there til closer to nine I think."

I stand up and walk over towards her and wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her in to a quick hug. "Okay, I'll pick you up at 4 and we can get dinner before going over there..." She nods and I lean to the side, eyeing the black bag, "what's in there?"

She releases me and takes a step backwards, smiling and shaking her head, "nuh-uh, no peeking and I'm not telling."

"But _Britt-Britt_," I don't care if I sound like I'm whining, "you know what I'm going as, it's not fair that you're keeping your costume secret."

"Don't worry, babe, you'll like it. I promise." I pout, jutting my bottom lip out as far as it will go, but she just leans forward and kisses me, quickly disarming me like she always does.

* * *

My morning goes to complete crap after she leaves. First, I get a call from Mercedes asking if I'd come in to the office to go over a few things concerning the new artists we were looking into signing. So, instead of spending the day working at home in my comfy clothes, I have to dress to impress since the head Sony guys were rumored to be in the area and could stop into our office at any time. I leave without a jacket since it's so warm and I plan on coming back to the apartment at lunch to finish working from home and getting everything that I need for the evening.

I make it about half way to the train station when the heavens open up and rain, that wasn't forecasted, proceeds to wash the city clean. I run into the nearest store, a coffee shop that is currently sheltering more commuters caught without an umbrella, and try to wait it out. After what seems like hours, but was really only about ten minutes, the rain ceases and the sun peaks back out. If I thought weather in the Midwest, where it could be snowing one day and 70 degrees the next, was unpredictable, then New York was being a downright moody bitch today. And as I feel the hair on my head start to frizz my attitude quickly starts matching.

The train stop is packed and, because of the dumbass rain, I missed the train I wanted and have to wait for the one that will get me to the office 30 minutes late. I pull my phone out, needing to talk to Brittany, but seeing the time I know she's in the middle of teaching. So I call my voicemail and listen to the message I still have saved.

_"Hey baby, I just wanted to tell you that you're the most beautiful, amazing, loving, sexy, adorable, sweet, girlfriend ever. And Carol and the girls in the front office love you, especially since you brought in fresh cronuts and coffee this morning. But I told them that you're all mine. Because you are. All mine. Anyways, I just wanted you to know that I love you. So so so so much. See you tonight."_

The scowl that I'm sure was plastered across my face eases a little and a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. The school administrators and teachers had to go in for an 'in-service' day on the first day of the student's fall break the previous year, and Brittany had complained that the school only gave them an assortment of granola bars, small milk cartons or juice boxes, and a limited assortment of fruit as their breakfast. Pretty much the leftovers of the same snacks they gave to their elementary students during their morning snack. So I called the same bakery we use for our meetings at Sony and ordered an assortment of baked goods, including the delectable 'cronut' masterpiece, and gourmet coffee for them. I picked the order up and dropped it off at the school on my way in to work. Brittany and I had just admitted our love for one another the week before and it was the first time she had ever said it on my voicemail. So I kept it.

The train finally pulls into the station and I climb in among the massively packed throng of people. I feel like we're all be herded to the slaughterhouse. Okay, maybe I'm pulling a Berry and being a little dramatic. But if you've ever experienced a NYC train ride during peak times you'd understand exactly wh—

"What the hell are you doing?" I turn towards the young guy next to me who just had his hand planted firmly on my ass.

He flashes what I assume he thinks is a seductive smile in my direction and holds his hands up. "Sorry. Slipped. Can't help it that the train's packed. Luckily you were there to stop my fall."

"Well, if I were you I'd hold on to the safety pole next to you." I point to the railing within his reach, "Because if you _slip_ again you're going to end up with a broken hand. No me gusta."

When I finally get to the office I find Mercedes in the middle of a heated discussion. So I drop my briefcase off in my office, settle myself onto one of Mercedes' couches, and scroll through my pictures on my phone— stopping on a few of Brittany and me. I can't believe how far we've come. Quinn and Rachel's wedding, a little over a year ago, had completely changed my life and so many things have been falling into place since then. Well, until today. Today is hellish, on Halloween no less, and I would find that ironically funny if it didn't feel like everything was falling apart.

"Santana." I look up to see Mercedes staring at me expectantly. She rolls her eyes once she realizes I haven't heard a thing she's said. "As I was saying, David and Jeanette are coming in to the office. They'll be here in an hour so we need to get this fiasco organized so we can get them in and out of here quickly."

I look down at my watch and realize it's already 11am. If they're going to be here in an hour I won't have time to go back home to get my bag ready for tonight. Or stop by the dry cleaners to pick my costume up. I mutter a few curse words under my breath and quickly send a text to Kurt.

**Kurtsie I need your help, pls. I got called in to work… – S **

Mercedes and I start going over the problems with the two contracts. Actually, there aren't any _problems_ per say, just a bunch of whiny new artists who think they deserve to get a paycheck like they're platinum selling artists already. If I hear one more newbie say _"I'm gonna sell like Drake"_ or _"I'm the next Adele"_ I'm going to cut someone. Literally.

My phone starts to vibrate and I look down to see Kurt calling me. I quickly excuse myself from Mercedes' office and answer the call on my way to my office.

"Kurt! Help!"

"Satan, stop being so dramatic."

"Me, dramatic? That's real cute coming from you, Lady."

"You know, for someone needing a favor you're sure making it easier for me to say no."

I bite my tongue, willing the snarky response to stay locked away in my mind. _Be nice or Britt's gonna be mad_. Even thinking about my beautiful girlfriend works wonders for my mood.

"Fine, fine. I had to come in to the office because the bigwigs are in town and want to talk about a bunch of shit that's currently the last thing on my mind. And I had to rush to get here, so I left everything for tonight at the apartment, but I don't think I'll be able to come home before I need to pick Britt up. So, ummm, Kurtsie willyoubringmystufftomeplease?" I quickly catch him up on the situation and rush through the last part breathlessly.

"What was that last part? I need you to say it slower _and nicer_." I can practically hear the smile through the telephone and I know he's pushing my buttons because he knows I need him. I grit my teeth, my irritation at the day's turn of events is making it hard to not take my frustrations out on him.

"Kurt, will you please bring me my costume and bag and drop your car off to me here? _Pretty, pretty please with rainbow sprinkles on top_?"

"Okay, Satan, I know that was probably really painful for you. Yes, I'll help you out. But only because you asked really nicely."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Feeling like a little bit of the day's pressure ease off my shoulders. "Ok, my bag is in my closet, my clothes are laying on my bed. I also need the little pink and brown polka dotted bag sitting on the top bathroom shelf and my flat iron." _Damn rain screwing up my plans._ "Oh, and I also need my dry cleaning. The ticket is sitting on my dresser. Thanksloveyoubye."

I hear what sounds eerily like the screech from a bird of prey before I quickly disconnect the line to prevent him from backing out.

**Don't think I won't remember this Satan. –K **

One thing off my list. 674 more to go. I sigh at the time 11:43. Three hours til I get to see my girl. I open my text messages to send her a text and notice I missed one she sent while I was on the phone with Kurt.

There's a picture of Britt standing in the school gymnasium holding a red foam hand and winking at the camera with the caption, "you may be my cheerleader, but I'm your #1 fan. And we're gonna pretend like we just won the championship."

I re-read the text. Twice. Before squinting my eyes to focus on every detail of the picture. She's done this before, sent me a picture that had clues in it. Clues for what? Depends of the secret. One time she sent me a picture of her at the store, _Things have been pretty dirty so I'm going to clean tonight_. I didn't think anything of it. But, when I got to my apartment Kurt was gone and Brittany was standing in the middle of the living room dressed in a French Maid outfit. That night things definitely got _dirtier_ before they got cleaner.

Another time she sent me a picture of a castle she built out of red solo cups. Yes, castle. She used tape and everything to hold the cups in place. _I'm going to be the queen of your castle_. Learning from the French Maid incident, I looked closely, but I had no idea what she meant. What could be remotely sexual about a castle made out of plastic cups? When we went to dinner that night it was normal: pizza and beer and lots of laughter. But when we got back to her apartment she proceeded to sing me a song about cups, one that sounded so lively, cheerful, and innocent until I listened closely. And if there was any doubt in my mind about the meaning of the picture and song, that night she made it very _very_ clear what she meant. I haven't been able to look at plastic cups, red or any other color, without tingles taking over my body.

So, looking at this picture, I'm trying to process every single detail, but nothing stands out.

"Santana, they're here. I know you're frustrated about coming in and dealing with these ridiculous artists, but this is your time to shine. Show them why you're the best in the business."

I nod and smile at Mercedes. She's one of the best executive producers in the country. Pairing us together was one of the best decisions Sony ever made. Plus, we're like the most 'no-nonsense' deal makers (ball-breakers according to some) and can either propel a newbie into the mainstream or unintentionally blacklist them if they fail our criteria. Which is apparently why this meeting with Dick and Jane was happening. Yeah, that's not their actual names, but just like the books of similar name did little to help with children's phonics, these two imbeciles provide very little actual help with important issues. In fact, the probability of Dick or Jane helping to help finalize any contract is about as likely as Rachel staying quiet when she hears the opening chords to _any_ musical number. I take a deep breath and plaster the nicest smile I can muster on my face before walking in to the conference room.

Exactly fours hours and 23 minutes later I'm fuming and threatening physical, emotional, and psychological harm to anyone who comes near me. I look at my phone and see the missed call and three texts from Brittany and two missed texts from Kurt.

**Can't wait to see you babe – B **

**San, I haven't heard from you all afternoon and you're not answering your phone. Everything ok? – B**

**Satan, I parked in your spot and put your bags in the back. Your assistant said you've been in that meeting forever. – K **

**I'll call Britt and update her. Don't kill anyone. – K **

**I just talked to Kurt, let me know when you get out of work so I can be ready for you to pick me up. I love you. – B **

I quickly type a thank you text to Kurt and say goodbye to Mercedes, before taking a few calming breathes and calling Britt to update her on my whereabouts.

"Hey babe, I'm so sorry I got caught up in stupid politics here at work."

I hear the most delightful chuckle come through the phone and my body releases a little bit of its tension. "Baby, you don't need to apologize. I know you would've been here if you could have left early. How long til you're on your way?"

"Well, I'm still in my work clothes, but on my way. I'm right around the corner, five minutes tops. I need to change into my costume and re-do my hair and makeup since I got caught in the rain this morning."

"How about you park near the gym entrance and we can use the locker room to get ready. I already ordered delivery, so we won't have to worry about going any where for dinner. But you need to get here now. I miss you and am dying to kiss your lips right now."

"Britt, you have no idea how much I've missed you today. I need lots of your sweet kisses. I'm pulling up now." I park and grab my bags out of the back and see Brittany leaning against the open door on the side of the small brick building.

I walk up to her, letting my eyes lazily take in her appearance. Looking at her is like taking a breath of fresh air after I've been surrounded by chain smokers. She makes me light headed. Like I'm floating on air. And there's nothing else that could make me feel better.

I drop my bags inside the door and pull her into a searing kiss. Finally tasting her lips and feeling her hands on my hips, I surrender as she takes control of the kiss. Her tongue swipes across my bottom lip asking for permission to enter, that I quickly grant her access to without question, relishing in the blissful feeling of her invading every one of my senses. I couldn't imagine not being able to experience the sensory overload I get whenever we're together.

The feel of her silky smooth skin rubbing against my skin. Her heady, sweet smell that invades my nose when I know she's craving me as much as I'm craving her. The absolutely intoxicating taste of her essence on my tongue. Hearing her breathlessly moan out my name. Seeing her beautiful blue eyes look at me like I hang the sun and moon as she comes undone.

My body involuntarily shudders as my arousal spikes and I grip on to Brittany's back, wanting to feel her even closer than what we already were. Her thumbs continue to rub small circles on my bare skin where my shirt has ridden up to reveal a sliver of my waist. She pulls back, momentarily breaking the kiss, only to push me back into the closed auditorium door that I just walked through. Her thigh parts mine and the accidental pressure makes a low, raspy moan tumble from my slightly parted lips.

I lick my lips, the raspberry flavor from her lip gloss still lingering there. One of her hands abandons its station on my hips and stealthily moves its way under my shirt. The featherlite touches causing my body to vibrate with pent up sexual tension in their wake. I can feel my arousal increasing with every touch, every kiss. Everything that she's doing is causing incoherent moans to roll off my tongue, effectively ushering me closer and closer to bliss. The tension that had been weighing so heavily on me all day, all but vanishing the moment I laid eyes on her.

My hands, acting on their own accord, palm her firm ass and push her forward as I rock my hips forward to meet her thrusts. Her forehead is resting against mine and she uses her hand that's not squeezing my breast to tilt my chin upwards. My eyes lock on to an intense sky blue and I have to do everything in my power to not give in to the overwhelming sensation to fall over the edge I'm teetering so precariously close to.

I'm so close. So damn close. And then someone knocks on the damn door. "Noooooooo."

My head drops to her shoulder, and I can see she's just as frustrated that we've been interrupted as I am. She fishes money out of her pocket and swings open the door to reveal a tall lanky boy standing on the other side of the door, shifting uncomfortably in his stance.

"I'm s-sorry for interrupting your, um, uh. Here's y-your order."

He hands the two bags to her and my eyes narrow in on the blush covering his cheeks as his eyes unabashedly stare at Brittany's chest. Wait, did he say… shit. I clear my throat, not appreciating his leering one bit, and briefly make eye contact before I see his eyes go wide and his hands fly to cover the front of his pants.

I look down and notice my pants are unbuttoned. When did Brittany do that? Damn, she's so sneaky… and so damn sexy. My eyes travel down her backside and land on her firm ass. I'm pulled out of my thoughts, my dirty thoughts, by the door closing and my eyes snap up in time to see Brittany shake her head at me and carry the food past me and towards the door on the other side of the gym.

"Where are we going?"

"To my classroom to eat. Then we can get ready, _separately_. Because it's already 6:30."

I can't help the grunt of disapproval and the scowl that spreads across my face at being cock-blocked by a stupid teenage boy and Quinn and Rachel all at once. Not a happy camper.

"Here, I got the usual." Brittany hands me a container piled high with the pasta sampler and a bag full of breadsticks from the little Italian restaurant we went to on our first date. We don't go there often, but when we do we order the pasta sampler and dessert and split them because they're such huge portions. She pushes me into her plush chair and leans back against the desk, and I notice my hair straightener in her hand. "I'm going to straighten your hair while we eat so we can get ready quicker, ok?"

I nod my head and twirl some spaghetti around the fork. I bring the fork to her mouth and give her the first bite of each of the four pastas. "Definitely the ziti." I can't contain the smile that erupts; she always tries to guess the pasta I'm going to like the most each time. And as I taste each portion of pasta she grins at my reactions knowing she's picked the right one again.

* * *

I'm standing in the bathroom, smoothing out the uniform that used to define my very existence. The red, black, and white colors are still vibrant and pristine and I know coach Sue would be proud that I've kept my cheerleading uniform in such great condition. I gather my hair into my hand and secure the black hair tie around the high ponytail.

The bathroom door opens and I see Brittany walk in and my mouth drops open, finally putting the clues together.

"What's my favorite cheerleader doing now?"

I still can't form a sentence, but I think my eyes are probably saying enough if the smirk on Brittany's lips is any indication. I'm soaking in every detail, trying to commit to memory the sight in front of me. From the high top Jordan's and baggy shorts to the **_Heat_** written across the mesh jersey hugging her body in all the right places.

"Where did you get that, Britt-Britt?" I don't remember her ever owning an NBA uniform. Hell, I just took her to her first women's game this past summer.

She shrugs her shoulders, grabbing the towel by the ends around her neck, and answers cryptically, "I have my ways… Now, you have to answer my question. What is my favorite cheerleader doing in here? This is the player's locker room."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. This isn't the player's locker room. Why would I be… _Ohhh_. Brittany offers a small smile as recognition takes over, her eyes asking if it's okay, and I offer my own form of response. "I wanted to come _congratulate_ you myself… You did really well tonight, scoring the winning basket and all."

I feel really silly, like I usually do when we start to _play_, and I want to bury my face in my hands, but the look of adoration and lust on Brittany's face stops me in my tracks as she struts over to where I'm glued to the floor. She backs me up until my ass is pressed against the cool tile of the countertop: the pleats on my short skirt barely long enough to leave much to the imagination. Brittany's eyes slowly outline my figure, making their way up from my legs and lingering on my chest, before she finally focuses on my face. And the look she gives me is enough to ramp my heartbeat back up to where it was before that delivery boy interrupted. She still hasn't touched me since she's walked in, but I can practically feel her eyes caressing my skin and it sends shivers up my spine and down to my center.

She rests her palms on the counter beside my hips, my skin buzzing with barely contained excitement at our close proximity, and leans forward until her lips are within an inch of my ear, "You know I love it when you cheer for us. I always seem to play better."

My eyes involuntarily flutter closed as she runs her finger up and down my arm, little bumps rising in the wake of her teasing. My brain is short-circuiting and the only thing that makes any sense is my insane _need_ to feel her skin against mine. I reach out to touch her, but she backs away just out of my reach, "That skirt is sinfully short and if we weren't in such a public place there are so, so many things I would do to you."

A low growl escapes as I realize the full extent of her plan. The look, the one where she looks at me in her peripheral vision while smirking, drives me absolutely crazy. And she's giving it to me right now. But, if she wants to play, we certainly can play…

I slowly walk towards her, putting my hands on her chest and looking seductively into her darkened blue eyes before leaning up on my tiptoes and running my tongue over the ridge of her ear and nibbling on the lobe. I stay close enough for her to smell her favorite perfume that I sprayed just before she walked in, before lowering my voice in the sultry, sexy way she loves, "I want you soooo bad right now…" I start, "but I guess if you're suffering from stage fright there's nothing else to do but go home."

I look up and see Brittany staring at the wall with an unfocused foggy look, still standing rooted in her spot. Her calm façade barely betrayed by the white knuckles I see as her hands grip tightly onto her own hips. "But don't worry, someday soon," I press the front of my body into hers, instantly regretting it when I feel the hidden member press into my lower abdomen. My next words come out a whisper and, though unintentional, have the desired effect, "Vas a gritar mi nombre (you'll scream my name)."

A little squeal slips out as Brittany picks me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around her waist, and holds me against the cold concrete wall. I can feel my wetness soaking through my spanks, and I have no doubt she can feel it as she runs one finger over the red material.

"You're so wet for me already. I bet you've been imagining this all afternoon, looking at the picture I sent you imaging all the ways I could take you."

I take the snapback hat off of her head, leaving her tight bun in tact, while simultaneously releasing my high ponytail and placing the hat atop my head. "How about you just show me all the ways I _know_ you've probably thought of me. I see you watching me do the splits and flips, so you know I'm more than flexible enough for whatever you have in mind."

She laughs, literally laughs out loud, and I think it's the first time she's ever broken character. Until she carries me over to the door and secures the lock, "I'm not worried about your flexibility. I'm more concerned with your ability to keep quiet."

I open my mouth to protest her accusation that I can't remain quiet, but I realize she has a point. She releases my legs and I quickly slide down her body, plunging my hand into her shorts and taking her by surprise. I grip the dildo and put pressure on the front as I use my other hand to lower the basketball shorts around her ankles. I grab the towel from around her neck and drape it across the ground at her feet before lowering myself to my knees.

"I doubt I'll be the only one unable to stay quiet." I look up at her through my thick eyelashes, maintaining eye contact, as I slide my hands up and down the blue extension. I stick the tip of my tongue out and use it to trace the tip of the dildo, barely parting my lips as I suck the head into my mouth. Something about seeing Brittany's reaction, even though she can't truly feel my mouth around her, makes me enjoy every second of this moment. I take my left hand and cup her center behind where the appendage rests and feel her wetness as it trickles onto my fingertips. "Fuck, you're so ready for me."

I rub the residual wetness onto the tip of the dildo and suck as much of it into my mouth as I can stand. Her hands quickly cup my head as she locks eyes with me and moves her hips backwards and forwards, watching my expressions, gauging my enjoyment, ever mindful of my desires as well.

She pulls out of my mouth and helps me lean against the side of the biggest stall, nearly ripping my spanks down my legs, and picking up my left leg with her right hand a wrapping it around her waist. She rubs the tip of the strap-on through my folds, my legs shaking when she hits against my sensitive bundle, and she lines herself up with my entrance. I bite my lower lip and nod my head giving her permission to take me however she wants. The only thing I want is to give myself to her— in any way she wants me.

My arms grip around her shoulders and I steady my breathing through the first few inches as they stretch me. When she's finally completely buried inside me I rest the back of my head against the stall wall and focus on the sparks of pleasure coursing through my body as she slowly rocks her hips. "Look at me."

I lift my head and lock gazes with the most amazing blue hue as she ruts forward, her pace quickening as we maintain eye contact. One of her hands drops to my skirt and she runs her hands under the pleats around to palm my ass, as the other hand grips the top of the stall, seemingly holding on to it to remain grounded. "Harder, make me yours."

Brittany's thrusts pick up pace and intensity, the stall walls shaking each time our hips connect. "Fuh… Yeah, like that." My adrenaline is pumping so fast that I feel myself craving more of her, my lower stomach coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust she makes. "I can't get… get enough.. of you. I need more.."

Her hand on the stall drops to grip my other leg and she momentarily slows her pace as she pulls my other leg up to wrap around her waist. I pull myself forward, putting my covered chest in her face, and I can hear her grunt of frustration that she can't see two of her favorite things about my body. I run my fingertips over the base of her neck and pull on the sensitive little wisps of hair.

I can feel her muscles tensing as she picks her pace back up. I pull her hair again, her head tilting back slightly to expose her neck, and I waste no time attaching my mouth to her pulse point. I bite down hard after a particularly rough thrust, "oh, fuck, like that!" I know my voice is louder than I intended it to be, but I can't help it as she thrusts her hips up hard again. My fingers release her hair and I snake one hand between our bodies and roughly grip her covered breasts. She stills her hips and shuffles over to the counter, still buried deep inside me, lowering me onto my discarded work clothes resting near the edge.

She readjusts her stance and pulls her jersey over her head and I only get a few seconds to enjoy the pebbled pink breasts that I love before my eyes roll back in my head and I see stars.

The angle that I'm in allows for _perfect_ access to the spot that makes me feel like jell-o. Brittany smirks, and I know I'm—"Fuckin fuck, Britt!" I bite my lower lip and try to find anything on the counter top to grab on to as Brittany begins a relentless assault on my center.

She spreads my legs wider and I can practically see the wetness coating her stomach as she maintains her thrusting. "So, what were you saying about being loud earlier?"

"I was saying that –" I don't get the chance to finish my sentence because she thrusts herself in to the hilt and holds herself in, running her thumb once over my clit.

I open my eyes, that I hadn't realized were closed again, just in time to see her thrust back in as she bites so hard on her lower lip I'm afraid she might pierce the sensitive skin. I reach up and tug her down to crash our lips together as she starts rutting her hips again, never breaking our kiss, and I feel the warmth in my center spreading and intensifying and I know I'm once again close to my release. I can practically feel myself begging for it.

"I'm s-so…"

"I know, me too… come with me?" I nod my head, wanting nothing more than to look into her eyes as we share a connection I've never had with anyone else.

"I love you." She can barely get her sentence out before I'm surging forward and crashing our lips together, our hips still moving in sync to the rhythm of our synchronized rapid heartbeat.

She grips my hips, steadying me to meet her every thrust. I remove one of her hands and bring it my sex, using one of her fingers to rub circles over my hard bundle of nerves before bringing it to my lips, sucking her finger into my mouth, and using the other hand to rub myself. The taste of myself on her fingers, and electric sensations coming from her quickening thrusts and my own fingers rubbing on my clit, finally bring me to my breaking point. My thighs squeeze her waist and my back arches off the counter, intense shaking making me lose all control over my actions. "_San, oh baby_, you're so beautiful…" Britt's words barely register before I feel her grip tighten on my hips and back and she pounds into me relentlessly chasing her own release.

She collapses forward, resting her head on my still heaving chest, and entwines our fingers together. I can hear her orgasm labored breathing mixing with the sound of my rapidly beating heartbeat in my ears and I smile realizing she dressed up as a basketball player because of our conversation a few weeks back. I really am so lucky to have her.

I'm not sure how long we stay in that position, but when she stands up and slides out of me I groan at the loss.

"Oh shit, babe it's after 10." I pull my phone off the countertop and see the numerous missed calls and texts. "Quinn's probably so pissed we're late."

Brittany just shrugs her shoulders, "She'll get over it. I'd do it all over again given the chance."

I walk over to where Brittany is standing, helping her readjust her shorts, and notice the harness still strapped on her hips, "Why are you keeping that on?"

A look I've seen before flashes behind playful blue eyes and I know I'm in for more treats than tricks tonight.

"San, the night's still so young…"

* * *

**A/N2: Part 2 should be up next week. If you want to check out some more Brittana awesomeness you should read: **"Out of the Blue, Univited"** by LeighKelly — hits the feels, nerd!Santana/ shy!Britt in "**There's No One Else Like Me"** by LoneGambit, and a collab I'm doing with LoneGambit called **"The Way That I Love You"** listed under LuckyGambit.**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm extremely sorry about the wait- life became crazy hectic. But, here it is in all of it's 10k glory. This entire story was supposed to be around 5k words, but as you can see that clearly didn't happen. Thanks to all of the readers, reviews, follows from chapter one. I hope you enjoy this final chapter of this smutty installment, but stay on the lookout for more from the 'Who Knew?' 'verse.

If you want more smut you should check out the tag **DUBSPOOK. **A few Brittana authors have written some lovely smut for Halloween, so read their stories and enjoy their smutty minds.

Reminder: **rated M**

Contains: strap-on sex, semi-public sex, cursing, and all that jazz.

* * *

"Oh, so you two _finally_ decided to grace us with your presence." Quinn opens the door of her loft and stands in the doorway as she stares at Brittany and me. Thankfully I'm standing somewhat behind Brittany, my body and short cheerleading outfit hidden from view, or else she might have seen me trying (and failing) to hold in my laughter as I looked at her Halloween costume.

"We're here now, and I'm a celebrity, so let us in." Brittany gestured to her Miami Heat uniform and made shooing motion towards her best friend.

"Quinn, ba-byyyyy," Rachel has this habit of appearing out of nowhere. It happened all throughout high school where I would be minding my own business and _BAM!_ she's standing next to me. She can apparently still pull off that little magic trick. Any composure I had maintained up until this point immediately leaves as my body starts to shake from laughter. Quinn is standing in the doorway with her hair pinned under an orange wig, silky looking purple dress, and heeled pink boots that make her about an inch shorter than Britt. And Rachel, arms hung loosely around her wife's torso, is in an orange sweater and red mini skirt. Ohh, and knee socks. Can't forget the knee socks.

Rachel finally realizes why her wife is still standing in the doorway and she semi-squeals out her greeting at us. She pulls Brittany into a tight hug, abruptly pulling away and staring at Brittany's crotch area. "Hey Velma, keep your eyes away from my woman's sexy bits."

Quinn's eyes narrow at me and then slide over to check out Britt's outfit. If I was a betting person, which I certainly am, I'd say she noticed Britt's slight _bulge _by the way her eyes semi-bug out of her head.

"Oh my god. Kurt!" Rachel's shriek brings all of us out of our daze and we look around to find the fire. My eyes finally land on Rachel when I notice she's taking in my appearance for the first time. Her eyes roam starting at my sneaker clad feet and make their way up my legs and across my chest, before her eyes lock on to mine. And, in that one gaze I realize why she's working herself into a tizzy –

"Well, well, looks like Satan still has her touch." Kurt's appreciative once over catches my attention and I look between him and Rachel as they talk in a decidedly un-hushed animated manner.

"Oh god, it's like high school all over again…"

"Santana the bitchy head cheerleader is not the girl standing at your door. Get it together. It's just a costume, Rach."

"How do you know that? Maybe I should get Quinn to search her. You don't know what she could be hiding all up in there…"

Rachel turns back towards the rest of us still standing in the doorway, and I just smirk at her and wiggle my fingers in a slow wave. "San, you should be nice so Quinn will stop being rude and let us in."

As we walk through the doorway of their Manhattan loft Brittany leans over, nibbles her way up my neck to my ear, and whispers with a purr "… Though it is really, _really hot_ how much power you have in this uniform."

And just as quickly as she's managed to make my temperature spike, she turns away with a devilish smirk in place because she knows she's making me all hot and bothered. It's gonna be a long night.

Rachel introduces us to the group of her friends and cast mates. And as they're introducing themselves to us it's easy to see that I'm not paying attention to any of them. Rachel knows it. Quinn knows it. Brittany knows it. And, considering they've all stopped trying to make small talk with me, I'd assume they all know it as well. It's not like I'm trying to hide it. My eyes haven't strayed from Brittany's body for more than a few seconds at a time since we've walked in. I even heard someone trying to tell me that Ms. Marvel was somewhere in the building. And though that might have tempted my eyes to stray in search of some non-existent energy exchange in the past, no one holds a candle to the way Britt has made me feel since that day my eyes landed on her in that crowded bar in Lima.

"Earth to Santana!" Mercedes is standing in front of me, dressed in an all white cylindrical box. So many things are threatening to spill off the tip of my tongue, but nothing prepares me for witnessing her husband, Sam, shimmy up to her dressed in a matching black cylindrical box.

"Really guys? Salt and Pepper?" I roll my eyes at them, because c'mon, who dresses in boxes to go to an adult Halloween party? I mean, at least Rachel and Quinn sluttyed-up their Velma and Daphne costumes. Though I'm certain Rachel just reused items from her wardrobe. I swear I've seen that red skirt before.

My eyes lock with my favorite blue and I see her mouth the words _I'm thirsty_ across the room. So I lick my lips, run my finger tip over the front of my uniform, mouth back _I'm waiting_, and throw a seductive wink in her direction before turning my attention back to the two in front of me. This night just got a little more fun.

"…And that's why it's genius! Because I'm Peppa and she's Salt! We're rappers and seasonings." Sam's apparently been talking to me this whole time, and the red hue that's starting to tinge his cheeks as he notices my 'zoned-out' look is kind of hilarious.

"Cool costumes, Sambo. It's good you're pepper, though, because I don't think I would've been able to tell the difference between your ghostly legs and the white box." I pat him on the back and chuckle with Mercedes before turning towards the kitchen to get Britt and I drinks.

I see the cheap liquor sitting out on the table, but I know Quinn and Rachel well enough to know they have a good stash hidden somewhere. The first time I came to their apartment with Brittany they had made the mistake of leaving it out. I thought up some ridiculous challenge between Rachel and I and proceeded to try to win whatever it was. Quinn and Britt might have used that incident, and the two that followed, to make some sort of agreement to keep Rachel and I from betting on anything when liquor is involved. But, I've been known to convince Brittany to see my point-of-view with the right incentives.

"Looking for something in particular, Satan?"

I turn around, abandoning the cabinet I was rummaging through, and see Kurt and Adam standing in front near the kitchen table. They're both in some sort of green leather–and-spandexy-and-immensely-too-tight get up. "Yeah Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle, I'm looking for the good booze. Know where they're hiding the stash this time? They moved it from the hiding spot they had it in before."

"_Blah blah_ Robin Hood _blah blah blah_ Batman'n'Robin _blah blah_." Ok, so this might be extremely politically incorrect to say (but I don't really care since you're in my head reading my thoughts), but Adam is a Brit. Not sexy like my amazing girlfriend Britt, but Brit as in British. And he talks like a Brit. Which means I only catch a few words of what he says because no matter how many times he claims to speak English I still can't understand half of what comes flying out of his mouth. I swear even Kurt just nods and smiles when he doesn't understand something. Which is a lot.

"Saaaaan, whatcha doin?" Brittany slides in next me, pulling me into what was meant to be a chaste kiss. But as I turn my body to press more fully into her embrace, a moan tumbles from her lips and spurs me on. I slide my tongue along her bottom lip, sporadically dipping my tongue into her mouth to tease at her tongue, before I feel myself drowning in my own _thirst_ for more. My hand comes up to her neck and pulls her closer, desperate to feel and smell and taste every bit of her that's at my fingertips.

Kurt, or Adam, don't know and don't care who the hell interrupted – it could be Scooby-_fucking_-Doo looking for Daphne and Velma. All I know is _someone_ in the kitchen clears their throat to get our attention and I reluctantly pull away from Brittany and shoot my best HBIC glare in their general direction.

"As much as we enjoy seeing you two try to devour each other every second of every day, I just wanted to show you where the secret stash is." And on that note, Adam has my attention. Funny how, when it's concerning alcohol, I can understand him completely. Alcohol is my Rosetta Stone.

"Thanks! Do you want me to make you two drinks as well?" I don't claim to be any sort of bartender, but I have made my fair share of drinks at frat parties and know enough to not make something disgusting that will also get you tipsy really quickly.

Kurt nods, "yes, I could use a drink. But don't give me anything too strong or else. Well, we won't rehash that…"

I shudder at the visual image running through my mind now. Kurt and I had a "Let's celebrate Santana finally living in the Big Apple" evening to remember, but he drank so much that I ended up being the _only_ one who remembered anything. And if I didn't have the pictures of him in a tutu to prove it, he wouldn't believe anything I told him about that night. But I do have the pictures and they're locked away for safe-keeping. And blackmail.

"Hey babe, what're you making us?" I look up and see Brittany staring at me while biting the bottom edge of her lip. I shake my head of the residual thoughts of Kurt as a pretty ballerina, and lean forward into Brittany's waiting embrace.

"What do you want me to make? Looks like Quinn stocked up in preparation!" I don't actually need Britt to tell me what she wants me to make. It's been the same drink request every time. I grab the rum and blue Curacao and pineapple juice and sweet and sour mix and start pouring the correct amount of everything into the big pitcher. I'll be damned if I'm spending a lot of time making a bunch of different drinks.

"Yes, Santana, we did buy more alcohol. The last time you were here Quinn thought she hid the basket from you in the last place you'd look, but when we went to have a drink later in the week it was clear the hiding spot had, in fact, not been the best spot."

"The only _safe_ hiding spot in your house would be your toy drawer. You won't catch me anywhere near that thing."

I shudder and turn to look for the cups I need to pour drinks and find them in Brittany's hands. She hopped up onto the kitchen countertop while I was making the big batch for everyone and is currently sitting next to my makeshift mixing station with a small stack of red solo cups in her hand and a mischievous grin spread across her lips.

"_I got you in the palm of my hand. Wanna put somethin' hot in you. So hot that you can't stand…_"

Brittany whisper-sings the first line of the song she made up and every flashback of that night she became the "Queen of my Castle" immediately runs through my minds-eye. She hands the solo cups off to someone and reaches out to run her hand down my arm. My skin feels like it's on fire from one simple touch of her skin against mine and I know I could get high off of this feeling every day for the rest of my life. She's just that intoxicating.

Even though Britt is on the counter, we're fairly secluded towards the back corner wall near the fire escape. Most people who are filtering in and out of the kitchen are in the middle or front standing in groups talking about something boring like arrests (Sam is a cop after all), musicals (Rachel just had to invite all of her theatre cast mates), and a ragtag group of others that range from guys dressed like James Bond or a bum in a Hawaiian themed "I need to get leid" shirt all the way to girls dressed like Ms. Marvel or Glinda the Good.

Her hand slides down and wraps lightly around my wrist as she pulls me in between her legs and my hands immediately grip onto her thighs. I seize opportunity our semi-private location affords us by slipping my fingertips under the fabric of her basketball shorts. The soft mesh fabric rubbing against the backside of my hand feels like sandstone compared to Brittany's silky smooth thighs. I vaguely hear someone mumble something, but I'm honestly only focused on where my hands are inching and the feel of my girlfriend's fingertips lingering delicately against my skin.

She leans forward and begins feathering kisses from underneath my jaw all the way back to that sensitive spot below my ear that she knows will always make me melt. My thumbs are rubbing circles on the inside of her thighs and it takes every ounce of restraint within my body to keep my hands from moving more towards the place they long to touch. My hands still completely and I grip on to her thighs tighter as her pink lips barely brush against the shell of my ear, but it's enough to make my breath hitch and a little chuckle to escape her lips. _"Gonna take you to my lips. Empty out every last drop. So thirsty for what's in you, baby, that I can't stop."_

My eyes flutter closed as I turn towards her voice, hoping to get a kiss or two or ten, but when no kiss comes I open my eyes to see Rachel standing right there in front of me holding two cups out towards me and Brittany. She clears her throat and offers a sheepish smile, "I brought you guys drinks before everyone else gets some and it's all gone."

Brittany thanks her because she's just that nice, but I just roll my eyes and grab my cup. I bring it to my lips, but stop when I notice Britt isn't drinking hers. "What's wrong?"

"It doesn't have a cherry." I close the distance between us and try to kiss the pout away, but it doesn't work. Which means I actually need to find a cherry. I look over at Rachel and see she's holding out a bag of regular cherries and not the maraschino cherries that Britt loves to have in her drinks. I mouth _the other ones?_ And Rachel simply shakes her head and walks back towards the big group congregating near the table.

I know Brittany won't want to put that type of cherry in her drink, but I try anyway. "Hey babe, Faberry's don't have any more of the small cherries. I'm pretty sure we ate them all the last time we were here. But Rachel will let us use these cherries if you want."

She shrugs her shoulders and I'm tempted to call a cab and pay the ridiculous $30 fare just to take me to the store to buy a jar of cherries when an even better (and free) idea pops into my head. I grab two cherries, quickly making small slits in the bottoms and getting the seeds out, and turn towards Brittany. She's looking at me curiously and her pout is beginning to fade as I bring one of the cherries to my mouth. Her blue eyes are so intensely focused on my lips that she doesn't notice my hand sliding back underneath her shorts. I part my lips and run my tongue in circles around the fruit before enclosing it in my mouth and plucking the stem off the end.

I bring the other cherry up to her lips and she tilts her head back slightly as she parts her lips and takes the cherry off the stem. When she looks back towards me I notice her eyes travel from my hand that's in her shorts up to my lips and then to my eyes before looking back down at my lips. She leans forward and I put my pointer finger on her lips to halt her movements. "Did you know that there's a way to test your kissing abilities using a cherry stem?"

She shakes her head, so I continue. "Apparently you're a great kisser if you can tie a cherry stem into a knot using your tongue."

I put the cherry stem in my mouth, her eyes never leaving mine, and a few seconds later I pull out the knotted stem.

"Well, that's a silly test. I already know you're a great kisser." Brittany tries to lean forward to kiss me again, but I shake my head and hold her cherry stem out towards her.

"I want to see if you can do it. I'm testing a theory."

"So, you don't think I'm a good kisser?" Blue eyes narrow in my direction as she puts the stem in her mouth and tries to tie it into a knot.

I shake my head ardently. "That's not it at all. I _know_ how talented you are with that tongue of yours… I just want to see if someone who's insanely gifted in the art of kissing and _other things_ won't be able to tie it."

She hops down off the counter and lifts me up to sit in the spot she just vacated.

She positions herself in between my thighs and I hook my ankles together behind her back as she leans in closer to me and pulls the cherry stem from her mouth slowly. There's a knot in the middle and a knot at the very end of the stem, "I guess the test is correct."

Leave it to Brittany to prove that she's not only good at kissing —but that she's also exceptionally skilled with her tongue.

"Hey, I can do that, too."

I don't bother looking in Sam's direction. My eyes are still intently focused on my girlfriend's lips and the pink tongue that just wet them. I feel around for the bag of cherries on the countertop and thrust them in Sam's general direction for him to take and leave us alone. "That's great Sambo, but you could probably do a lot of disgusting things with that gigantic trouty trap."

Brittany leans forward, her fingertips lightly scratching the skin peeking out from the bottom of my skirt, and whispers in my ear. "San, be nice. You know he's a cop."

I look at her in extreme confusion because what does that have to do with anything? He can't arrest me for pointing out the obviously huge size of his mouth. She's looking at me expectantly like I'm supposed to know something that I obviously don't. And after a few seconds of quiet contemplation I still stare at her without a single clue as to what she's getting at. I've tried to recall any conversation we've had recently that might shed any sort of light onto why Sam being a cop should matter.

Nothing.

"He's got handcuffs…" She says as she pulls my body closer to the edge of the counter. I can feel her stomach muscles tensing from where they're pressed against my inner thighs and I can hear the way her breathing is becoming more labored. "And as much as I enjoy our pink fluffy cuffs, I can certainly think of a few ways real handcuffs could be sexy…"

I'm nodding to everything she says. Not because I agree (though I do most certainly agree that the cold metal of real cuffs could be sexy. Hell anything with Brittany could be sexy), but because her hand is currently on the upper inside of my thigh and her fingertips are grazing over my covered center with just enough pressure to feel it, but not enough pressure to do anything more than tease me.

I bring my hands up to the nape of her neck, twirling little strands of blonde that have fallen out of her bun around my fingers, and lock eyes with my soulmate. "I love you."

The flecks in her blue eyes seem to light up as she smiles softly at me, "I love you, too, San."

We lean in at the same time, both seeking each other out, and share an intimate kiss. The last hints of her raspberry lip gloss allowing our lips to slide against each others effortlessly. My grip tightens in her hair and her one free hand (the other is still under my skirt teasingly tracing patterns on my spanx) is gripping my hip like it's her only hope for staying anchored to the ground.

"BODY SHOTS!"

Brittany's head whips around to stare at Quinn who is holding a red cup of the drink I made earlier. Of which I still haven't had a single sip of. Brittany leans over, "Can we?"

I smile because one of the things I love most about Britt is that she's always so conscientious of my wants and needs and desires. I know for a fact that one of her favorite things ever is doing body shots. She's so in touch with and free with her body that she doesn't care if she's the giver or receiver as long as she gets to participate. "Of course, Britt-Britt."

She looks down and I already know what's coming. Unlike Britt, I would much rather be the one taking the body shot because the idea of laying on a countertop with my body on display for multiple people isn't my idea of fun. I'm fit and could flaunt it all, which I did at countless high school parties, but that was out of a place of insecurity and wanting to fit in. I haven't given a body shot since then.

"Will you let me take a body shot off of you this time? You don't have to if you don't want to. You know, never mind. It's okay. I want you to take one off m—"

I crash my lips into hers to quiet her nervous rambling. My heart is beating so fast I feel it might beat right out of my chest, and I know it's because I'm going to let Brittany take a body shot off of me and because I'm extremely turned on by everything she's saying and doing. "I want you to take a body shot off me."

She looks at me through her lashes and tilts her head to the side as if she's waiting for some inevitable _but_ stating why I won't do it. It's not coming. And when she looks at me again I can see the happiness practically shooting happy beams from her eyes.

"Besides, you still have our little friend to consider. And even though most people have no clue, lying down on a table will make that nearly impossible to conceal. Plus," I say as I pull her closer into my body and snake my hand down between our bodies and under the waistband of her shorts, "I can barely keep myself from doing inappropriate things to you now. I doubt I'd be able to restrain myself if you were already lying down waiting for me."

I turn and walk away before giving her the chance to respond. "Quinn we're in! Let's get it going!"

* * *

After a few rounds of body shots people start switching partners and taking shots off of random people. Britt and I were standing to the side when Rachel and Quinn joined us to watch the shenanigans unfold. They weren't too keen on the idea of switching up either, but as we looked on at Kurt and Adam and some other guys I don't remember the names of, it seems as though everyone's still having fun.

"I think this is the first time San hasn't taken a body shot in all the years I've known her."

I shrug my shoulders at Rachel and lean in to Britt, who's surprisingly sober-ish for as many shots as she took off of me.

"Yeah, and I don't remember the last time Britt actually downed tequila like that." Quinn chimed in from the other side of her wife.

"Oh Santana. I do believe we should make a wager." My eyes practically light up at the prospect of beating Rachel at her own game so I nod for her to continue. "Since you and I seem to be the most sober, I think we should see how many body shots we can do off of our respective partners. Who ever loses has to host the next wine and canvas night."

I look at Britt who nods and smiles her acceptance. I groan because if I say I don't want to participate I'll look like a pansy and I'll have to buy them their favorite bottle of wine (a stipulation we came up with to keep from only accepting challenges we're likely to win). But if I accept there's a chance I'll actually have to go to one of those damn girl nights they're always inviting me to and I'd rather not be forced into it.

"C'mon San, we can totally win this thing. You're like made for this. It's tequila and me…" I chuckle at Brittany's attempts to convince me and nod my consent to Rachel.

And then it dawns on me. She said I'd be doing the body shots off of Britt.

"Wait, can Britt do the shots off me?"

Rachel shakes her head, "no. The terms of our agreement have already been set and you agreed to take the bo—"

"I know what I agreed to, it's just that Britt's _costume_ might draw unnecessary attention."

Rachel turns around and surveys the room before turning back to me, "They're all distracted. But if you want to forfeit we will take a bottle of—"

I hold my hand up to get her to be quiet and look at Britt for her opinion. If she doesn't want to do it I will buy them a case of wine and host as many wine and canvas parties as needed. But Brittany's already sitting on the table with a saltshaker in her hand and lime wedges cut and ready. She looks over at me and beckons me closer. "I'll go take it off if that'd make you feel more comfortable."

I shake my head and tilt her chin up so I can kiss her lips.

"Okay, we need judges to count for us." Rachel and I look around and try to pick out the most sober people. "Mercedes and Kurt."

They hear us calling their names and walk over with Adam and Sam in a heated discussion behind them. So, Rachel clears her throat and tells them what's going on. "Kurt and Adam are going to be the judges for team Faberry. Kurt is the main judge because he's my best gay, but Adam you have an important roll to make sure Kurt can't be accused of cheating since this little activity is an active wager."

"Mercedes and Sam you'll be judging for team Brittana. Though I would like to see Sam as the main judge, it's only fair that Santana gets to choose her main judge like I did."

All eyes look at me expectantly and I feel Brittany's hand lightly tickle my thigh. She mouths _be nice_ to me, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. "Duh Mercedes is my pick. No offense Sambo, but I don't want your eyes to be focused on anything but counting limes and shot glasses. Capiche?"

Sam smiles his goofy, too big smile, and I see him slide his fingers between Mercedes' and give them a little squeeze, leaning over and pecking her lips, before turning back towards us and letting Quinn and Brittany get settled onto the countertop and table, respectively. We flipped a coin for tabletop dibs and thankfully Britt and I won.

Britt leans back and I try to cover her from the side as much as possible as she readjusts herself. But it's really no use because there's no way to hide it. Even though she does have her hands crossed and resting on top of her shorts to try to hide it a little bit.

"Britt, you have some—" Mercedes quickly clamps her hand over Sam's mouth and shoots me an apologetic look before shaking her head at her husband.

Too bad Adam didn't get the memo. "What's that in your pocket?"

Before I even get a chance to go all Lima Heights, Kurt is chastising him and trying to get him to be quiet long enough for us to just start the challenge.

I look in Britt's bright blue eyes one more time to make sure she's ok with it. She bites her bottom lip and nods her head before tugging me forward into a passionate kiss. It could have been minutes or seconds that passed, I'm not really sure, all I know is when I finally pulled away I had absolutely no desire to do anything but keep kissing her. And _other stuff_ that certainly wasn't helping the situation we were in.

Mercedes and Kurt shift into their places at the head of each table and Sam and Adam each are each holding a bowl of limes and a tray of premeasured tequila shots.

"You have five minutes to see how many full body shots of tequila you can do." Kurt informs us and starts the countdown.

"On your mark." I reach for the saltshaker and lick the side of Britt's neck to make it wet.

"Get set." I sprinkle salt over the wet area and place a lime wedge in Britt's mouth.

"Go!"

The first minute things are running smoothly for us. I'm taking my time and making sure to follow each step. Lick. Drink. Lime. Flip shot glass over. Repeat.

On my next time through I noticed Britt's neck getting a little red from using the same area. "Britt I need you to move closer so I can use a different part of your neck."

"Santana, she can't change pos-sitions or you'll be disqual-lified." Rachel, who's a serious lightweight, chimes in between her hiccups.

"Well there's nothing in the rules saying I can't climb on the table."

With two minutes left Team Brittana is leading Team Faberry 6 to 4. I climb on top of the table and swing my leg over Brittany's torso being careful not to put pressure on her hands that are still resting over her shorts. I reluctantly call Sam over closer to me so I don't have to keep getting up from my position and I'm thankful that he respectfully keeps his body facing Mercedes, only adjusting his grip on the tray to accommodate my reach. One day I'll thank him for that.

The first time in the new position is a little… different. I had to take Britt's hair out of her bun so she could rest her head back comfortably. Then, as I lowered myself to wet another spot on her neck, I got a strong whiff of her shampoo and perfume and natural scent and forgot to lick her neck at all. So when I poured the salt it just slid off.

So, now on the second try I go through a mental checklist for each step. Lick the side of her neck. Check. Pour a little salt over the wet area. Check. Place lime in perfectly parted pink lips. Check. Get lost in beautiful blue eyes. Check. Sit back to clear my mind of their lustful thoughts and accidently rub my center against my girlfriend's hands. Check.

My eyes close involuntarily and I bite the inside of my cheek to swallow the moan threatening to come out of my mouth. I open my eyes when I feel Brittany's hands grip onto my hips and hold me in place and I can see her brows furrowed in her own effort to stifle a moan. I feel the strap-on rubbing against me slightly, so I reach towards the shot tray and down another shot before leaning down for the lime. Brittany drops the lime out of her mouth and pulls me in to a bruising kiss. Her hands tighten, one on my waist and the other twisted in my ponytail at the back of my neck, as she parts my lips with her tongue and tastes the peppery tequila still lingering there.

I break the kiss and ask for a score check, Faberry 8. Brittana 8. I'm all ready to down a few more shots to seal our victory when Brittany pulls me back down, "San, I think you should slow down… even if they win this one time. I don't want you to get sick tonight when there's still so much _fun_ left for us to have."

I concede immediately, well kinda. I decide to take one more body shot to make my total shots nine. If Rachel wants to beat me she'll have to go into double digits.

I shift my body backwards, so I'm directly above the protruding strap on, and quickly slip my hands into Britt's shorts and un-tuck her jersey. I can feel her blue eyes watching my every move, probably trying to decide whether or not she should stop me from doing whatever it is I'm planning, but she doesn't move a muscle as I inch her jersey up little by little until her defined ab muscles are on display. My lips barely touch her stomach when I feel a rush of heat make it's way to my center and notice the throbbing intensify at each brush of my lips against her skin. My hands are resting on the sides of her ribs and as I kiss my way up to where her shirt stops just below her covered breasts, I bring one hand up to run my blunt nails over her skin causing goosebumps to erupt in their wake.

She bites her lip and I notice the blue of her eyes is getting darker with the rapidly expanding size of her pupils. It's obvious she's just as turned on as I am. I maintain eye contact with her as I poke my tongue out and lick a circular pattern near her belly button. After sprinkling a little bit of salt on her stomach and placing the new lime between her lips, I grab my ninth shot glass.

Lick. Drink. Lime. Kiss.

I set the lime rind in the shot glass and lower myself down to lick the residual lime juices off of Brittany's lips. Her hands squeeze my hips again as she slowly lowers my body closer to hers. The tip of the hidden member rubs against my covered center and barely brushes against my bundle of nerves, but my hips jerk in reaction anyway. Brittany moves my hips in the same path and my hips jerk when the tip brushes against me again.

Quinn clears her throat and I open my eyes to see her and Rachel standing on one side of the table with crossed arms and quirked eyebrows while the 4 judges are talking at the counter top. I make eye contact with Quinn again and notice the large bruises forming on her neck and it's my turn to smirk and quirk my eyebrow in challenge. "Hey Faberry, before you two start pointing any fingers our way, you might want to check Quinn's neck for the evidence of your non PG-13 display as well."

Quinn quickly covers her neck and Rachel and Britt start giggling.

"Team Faberry is the winner." Kurt announces and Rachel starts jumping up and down like she just won the fucking lottery.

"Wait a second. I did a ninth shot. That would mean we tied!"

"You didn't flip your last shot glass so I can't technically count that last one. Faberry wins 9 to 8." Sam takes a step away from me after I shoot him my most menacing glare and start to move towards him.

"Are you serious? I totally had that one in the bag! Technicalities are lame!"

Brittany grabs my hand, pulls me off the table, and leads me to the fire escape. "We're gonna get some air okay?"

Quinn and Rachel nod and Sam looks away sheepishly.

"Britt, can you belie—" I don't get a chance to start or finish the rant that was on the on the tip of my tongue because Brittany knows how to make me drop unimportant issues in the most effective way possible.

She walks us to the corner of the fire escape balcony and breaks the kiss momentarily. Getting a closer vantage point, she looks at the railing before kicking it repeatedly and hitting it with her hand.

"Britt, I'm sorry we lost. If you don't want to go to the—"

"No, I'm not mad." She chuckles and turns back around to face me. She grabs my hands and pulls me closer to her body and I allow my hands to roam around her midsection as she continues. "I'm not mad, I just needed to check the railing to see if it was loose. Because if it was I wouldn't be able to do this…"

Before I realize what's going on Britt is running her hands up the back of my skirt and palming my ass. I delicately lean against the railing to feel its stability before leaning over to check our surroundings. The spot where Britt brought us is out of sight from inside Rachel and Quinn's loft, which is good. And we would hear it first if anyone tried coming out here. But that's only for their apartment. "Britt, what if someone sees?"

"Baby, it's dark so no one can see our faces. We're high enough up that no one one the street would notice us. And if someone in another building is looking over here that hard then I feel bad for them. Because all they're going to see is me and you fully clothed."

She palms the curve of my ass and squeezes, but doesn't do anything else until I look into her eyes. "If it makes you uncomfortable you don't have to do this. I'd gladly make love to you anywhere you wanted to."

I pull her closer to me and run my hand under her jersey to caress her back as she moves her mouth to my neck and starts kissing me lightly along my jaw line. One of her hands remains under my skirt, toying with the edge of my spanx, while the other hand grips the back of my neck and pulls me in closer. She bites and sucks on the skin covering my pulse point and swipes her tongue across the surface to soothe the red marks I'm sure she's leaving. Her leg slides in between my thighs, pushing them apart, and my fingertips drag along the surface of her back leaving little scratches and crescent moon imprints in their wake.

Her hand slides from the back of my spanx to the front as she disconnects our kiss and lowers herself to the ground in front of me.

"Britt, what are you –"

My legs are pushed further apart as Brittany runs her finger along the edge of the soft red material before pushing it and my panties to the side revealing how wet I am.

"San, you're so beautiful…" She moans as she runs one of her fingers between my wet folds and I can hear and smell and feel just how incredibly ready I am for her.

She leans forward and places a delicate kiss on my extremely sensitive bundle and I can't help the moan that finally escapes my throat. The pleats of my skirt don't allow me access to view what's going on and maybe that's what's making me get amped up so quickly. I don't know for sure, but what I do know is that in a matter of minutes Britt has me practically begging her to be inside me. So she turns her body so that her back is to the stairs and lowers herself into a seated position on the second to last step.

I walk over, unsure of what she has planned, but I'm pleasantly surprised when she takes my hand and kisses from my knuckles to my elbow and back to my open palm. "Come here" she whispers sweetly into the unseasonably warm air. I bring myself as close as I can before feeling the overwhelming need to be closer to her. I turn around and sit on her lap grinning triumphantly when I hear her breath catch in her throat from the pressure I'm applying to the appendage. Her hand snakes it's way under my skirt again, but instead of playing with the fabric at her fingertips, she quickly moves the material to the side exposing my bare ass and glistening center to her as she guides me to bend over in front over her.

My hands reach out to grab the side banister at the feel of fingertips circling around my entrance making my knees feel weak. Her tongue slides through my folds until she comes to the bundle at the end and her lips latch on as she sucks swirls her tongue sending sparks of pleasure coursing through my veins. I can feel her finger slowly entering me and I already know, "Britt baby, I need more."

She slips two fingers in with slightly more resistance, but it's easy to see the effects of all of the teasing winks and smirks, the sensual touching and passionate kisses, the sexual innuendos and blatant sexual statements. They've all led to this moment and all I want is for her to be –

"Fuck…uhh, B-britt…"

Brittany pulled me back into her body, lowering my body onto the waiting appendage—my body adapting fairly quickly to the addition. I reach down to her sides and feel her shorts still pulled up.

"You know, one of the reasons I kept this on all night is because we'd have the ability to have sex in plain sight if we just pulled my shorts low enough at the very front, and your skirt allows you to sit in this position and look like you're just sitting on my lap."

"You're… you're a fucking genius, Britt-Britt." I say between labored breaths. I'm alternating between going up and down, to rotating in a figure eight, to rocking back and forth, all the while trying to find the rhythm and motion that's most pleasurable for both Brittany and myself.

I hear the window open and someone climb out, so Brittany and I still our movements and see one of Rachel's theatre buddies come over to our area with a solo cup in hand.

"Hey guuuuuuys…" Glinda the Good sways a little and I hear Brittany chuckle at her tipsy behavior.

But what I wasn't expecting was the surge of pleasure from the involuntary thrust when Brittany chuckled. My hands grip tightly onto Britt's thighs. If there's any chance of getting out of this situation without Glinda knowing what's going on Brittany has to stay still. But she doesn't because the other girl starts to hiccup and laugh which in turn causes Britt to laugh.

"Fuuuuhhhhkk, *cough*" I try to cover my moan with a cough, but Britt is an expert on my noises.

"San, what are you doing?" She asks in a hushed urgent tone.

I turn as far towards her as I can, "every time you laugh or cough or move you're hitting _the spot_. I can't help it."

Brittany's eyes go wide before they go dark with passion and I don't know what to expect next. The hand closest to the brick building, and hidden from Glinda's view, slides under my pleats and into my spanx and I squeeze Brittany's thighs tighter as I turn my head and whisper, "What are _you_ doing?"

The mischievous grin and flick of her fingertip make another moan tumble out of my throat and I know it's only a matter of time before Brittany makes me lose all control. I can feel her experimenting with little pelvic thrusts, as the other girl stands there talking completely unaware of what's happening right in front of her. And I'm extremely thankful for that. And immensely turned on that I'm filled completely by my girlfriend, teetering precariously close to the edge of ecstasy, and literally less than 10 feet away from another person who still has no clue what's going on.

Brittany's fingers apply pressure to my clit and my body shakes from the pleasure. I can feel my walls pulsing around the blue member and know Glinda needs to leave soon so I can move again. "Hey, will you go tell Quinn that you were out on the balcony and Brittany said she's buying bacon."

Glinda looks at Brittany weirdly, like she was suddenly speaking alien, then shrugs her shoulders and giggles her way inside. "Brittany Susan, that was –"

She thrusts herself upwards and hits _that spot_ again.

And again.

And again.

And she literally has me seeing stars from the copious amounts of pleasure coursing though my body. My limbs feel numb and tingly and on fire all at the same time. Brittany alternates the pressure she has on my clit as her other hand slides under my top and into my bra. She cups my breast and kneads the flesh gently. Rolling my nipple in between her fingers in time with her gentle squeezing down below. And no matter what I try to do I can't seem to slow down the speeding train of my fast approaching orgasm.

"I-I'm gonna…"

Britt puts more pressure on my clit as she continues playing with my breasts. And after one particularly intense squeeze to my bundle of nerves, I feel a rush of warmth and I'm hurtling over the edge head first into one of the strongest orgasms I've ever had.

Brittany strokes and rubs me gently, allowing me to slowly come down, before I slide off of the appendage and pull her up until she's standing in front of me. I crash our lips together, hoping to convey all the love and desire I have for the beautiful woman in front of me. I push my fingers underneath her waistband and take little time unstrapping the harness from her hips. But now that I have it off I realize I have no place to set it down when I turn and see Britt opening a window. "I completely forgot this room has a fire escape window."

I push aside the curtains and peek into the guest bedroom of the Faberry residence and notice Britt's and my bags at the foot of the bed. I step down on the stairs they installed into the room and quickly cross the space to wrap the toy in a tshirt and tuck it safely into my bag. Brittany climbs in and closes the window behind her. I set our bags on the floor and reach behind me to unzip my uniform, slowly sliding the skirt and spanx down my legs and pulling the top over my head. Brittany grabs the hem of her jersey, but I move her hands away and take my time caressing her body before helping her undress. I pull her jersey and black sports bra off and shimmy her shorts down her long toned legs. She reaches up and unties my high ponytail and runs her fingers through my hair.

Our lips gravitate toward each other, but before they connect I step backwards and sit on the bed, scooting myself back til my back rests against the headboard. I beckon Britt closer and as she crawls towards me on the bed I can feel my arousal spiking again.

I pull her into a sitting position on my lap, almost the exact opposite of the way we were sitting only a little while earlier. I can smell her heady scent as she wraps her legs around my waist and I resist the urge I have to dive right in… barely.

She slides her body forward so that her center is pressed against my waist then leans in and captures my lips with her own. Her fingers twirl my hair and tug lightly to get me to tilt my head back while she bites down on and pulls my bottom lip between her teeth. Her hips are moving in every direction trying to find pressure anywhere she can, but I'm not doing anything to help. In fact, I put my hands on her hips and still her movements.

"Saaann…"

"Yes, Britt-Britt?" I say innocently and she tugs harder on my hair.

"Babe, please touch me… I'm dying over here…" Her pleading tone only lets me know how desperate she is for my touch.

I run my fingers down her thighs and pull her down into another kiss. Her naked sex is glistening and calling my name, so I run one finger through her soaked folds and swallow the moan of pleasure that tumbles from her lips. She's moving her hips in time with my strokes and I can feel her wetness dripping onto other parts of my body.

I continue working her up, purposefully neglecting where I know she wants me (and where I not so secretly long to be) in favor of working her up a little while longer. I lean forward and swirl my tongue around her pebbled nipple moaning as she tightens her grip in my hair instinctively. She's making little moans of pleasure that could probably send me over the edge all on their own. But paired with the feel of her wetness on my fingertips and the heat that's rapidly increasing in the space between our bodies, I know for a fact that I'm not the only one wanting and needing another release.

Brittany pulls back with a groan when she feels my fingers stop moving. "Babe?"

Her question barely leaves her lips before I slowly enter her with two fingers. Her head drops to my shoulder and I feel my body respond to the way her walls are pulsing around my fingers already. I start slowly, moving my fingers in and out in a slow and steady rhythm. When I feel her walls loosen a bit I pull my fingers out completely and bring them to my mouth. Britt's eyes watch my every move, eyes darkened and pupils blown, before she grabs my hand and returns it to her center. I slip my same two fingers back in and waste no time setting a pace I know she's enjoying if the steady volume increase of her moans is any indication.

I wrap my right arm around her waist and use it to bring her hips forward to meet the thrusts of my left hand. Her hands cup under my chin and tilts my head up to kiss my lips and my movements temporarily slow down.

"Don't stop, don't you fucking stop… ugh, f-feels soooo good."

So I don't stop. In fact I pick up the pace, using any leverage I can to add power behind my thrusts. I can hear, and feel, her wetness as it comes in contact with my skin. And as her walls continue to pulse and tighten I curl my fingers upwards til they're pressing into _her spot_. I reconnect our lips and use my thumb to stroke over her bundle of nerves repeatedly causing her moaning to reach it's peak right before…

"Y-yess, f-fuck… ugh!"

I feel a warm gush of liquid flow over my hand, so I continue my ministrations through her increased moaning. My fingers are still curled inside her, pressure staying against her spot, and my thumb continues to rub circles with reckless abandon. Her body, still shaking from the aftershocks of her first orgasm, rips into her second orgasm and she bites my shoulder in a failed attempt to muffle her loud cry of pleasure as I hold her close. The waves of her second orgasm hit her once again and I keep my fingers where they are until the shaking in her legs stills completely and our sweaty bodies slump against each other.

* * *

After laying there together, enjoying being wrapped up in each other, I remember something from earlier. "Hey Britt, why'd you tell Quinn you were buying bacon?"

She chuckles and leans forward, wrapping her arms around me from behind in her big spoon position. "Quinn used her key to come over once while you and I were _busy_ and she left me a note on the back of my shopping list which, ironically, only had "buy bacon" on it. Since then we've referred to private times that she shouldn't interrupt as buying bacon."

I laugh, but make a note to tell Quinn how much bacon I consumed in their guest room when I know Rachel, the vegan, will be around.

A few more minutes pass and I feel my stomach rumble, "Well, now I'm hungry. You can stay in here and I'll fix you something."

"Nah, I'll come out there with you."

We throw on random sweats, not caring that the party is still going on, and walk out into the kitchen and into the middle of a lively and loud group. I recognize Glinda, Ms. Marvel, Hulk, the whole cast of Rocky Horror and a few characters I don't know all sitting near Kurt, Adam, and Quinn.

"Hey, they finally joined us!" The crazy cross dresser yells out to the group. "Have either of you ever thought about auditioning for a part at our theatre?"

I shake my head and grab Britt's hand, "Nah, not really my thing. What about you, babe?" Britt shakes her head 'no' as well. The guy nods his head and I'm about to turn towards Britt to see what she wants me to fix when I hear Glinda chime in.

"Ohh, that's too bad. You've both got a great set of lungs."

My mouth drops open and Britt is turning a deep red from her neck to her ears.

Rachel cuts in, potentially saving that witchy bitch, "Ohhhhhhhkay! Who's ready for karaoke?!"


End file.
